The Hound Eater
by Saamon-sama
Summary: In a desperate move to feed her starving son, Eileen Snape calls upon the last vestiges of her neglected magic and locks herself in her animagus form. With the fate of an unforeseen future altered, what further changes will the start of this butterfly's effect bring about to the life of her little prince and the lives of the people around him?
1. Her Little Prince

**Disclaimer: I own naught but a thought.**

 _This will be HG/SS ... _eventually _._

 _Apologies in advance, for I am an author with no patience and so I'm not quite sure how I'm going to pull this off or even where it will eventually lead..._

* * *

It had been disappointingly easy to give Tobias the slip and leave the little hovel they called a home.

She'd told him she was heading out to buy groceries, and it was telling how far into drink he'd been when he failed to remember that they hadn't the money to buy groceries. She didn't worry about leaving Severus alone with his father though, as at the age of three going on four, her son had yet to openly show any signs of being magical. After the mill had shut down, Tobias had grown to hate magic and she'd learned quickly to never so much as touch her wand in his presence. If her magic couldn't transfigure them real food or money, then she wasn't to show off her freak powers at all. But even drowned in the cups as he was, Tobias had yet to lay a hand against his son.

His darling son who wasn't going to grow up into a freak if his Da had any say in his life.

With even breaths and trembling fingers, Eileen pulled her stick of ebony from its hiding spot within her sleeve. Obscured as she was by the shadows of the overgrown brush along Cokeworth's decrepit river, there was little fear of being noticed.

There was not a doubt in her mind that her son was magical, that Severus was a wizard. He'd shown accidental magic heartrendingly early a few weeks ago. Rather then the cold steel grey of her family, he'd inherited Tobias' beautiful brown eyes. Brown so dark that whenever light caught his eyes at just the right angle, it seemed as if a splash of molten chocolate had been captured in those irises. A quiet child, Severus' eyes seemed to convey his every emotion, his very thoughts.

To one day look into her little prince's eyes, and realize that they'd darkened to the point where pupil was no longer discernible from iris...

 _Standing in the kitchen, she wiped the plates clear of the crumbs left behind from their meager dinner of beans on toast. Her left pinky bled from a cut Tobias had just inflicted upon her when she'd suggested he try finding a job on the better side of town, opposite the closed down textile mill and poor community so lacking they didn't even have a food bank. In anger he'd stood and slapped the plates from her hands, raging with his voice like thunder that he was doing the best he could. Luckily the plates had survived the clatter to the tiled floor._

 _From the look of the cut, he hadn't cut his nails in a couple weeks._

 _As the sound of Tobias opening another of his cheap bottles floated to the kitchen Eileen absentmindedly sucked at the minor wound, the tang of iron reminding her that they hadn't had meat to eat for the past couple months. A small acidic grumble pulled her attention and she turned to see Severus still sitting in his chair, clutching the pillow he'd pulled out from beneath him which acted as his makeshift highchair to his chest. He'd already learned to make himself impossibly small whenever his father raised his voice.  
_

 _"Severus," she began._

 _"I'm not h'ngry, Mam," he spoke; voice soft yet sure as he looked her in the eyes in the wake of his bald lie. His usually emotive features kept carefully blank even as he clutched his pillow tighter in an attempt to muffle his treacherous stomach._

 _Eileen had paused, realizing that if broken angels were real they'd sound like her son._

She'd instantly recognized that look. In the steel grey eyes of her lord father the look translated into slate, devoid of any reflection of light. In her baby's face, with his already dark eyes and long lashes the look translated into the disconcertingly wide-eyed stare of a doll, making his pupils look impossibly large and terrifyingly hollow.

How terrible their situation must be, for her child's first show of accidental magic to take on the form of occlumency.

How gentle her boy must be, for his first act of magic to be done in an attempt to protect his mother from his own pain.

 _"Mother," she heard herself correct, speaking seemingly on autopilot. "You are a Prince, Severus. And you must learn to speak like one. Do not pick up your fool father's thick tongue."_

 _"Yes mother."_

For the past three days she'd ingested nothing but water, rationing the last of their food so that Severus would be satisfied enough to not look at her with those empty eyes. Her brilliant little boy had forced her hand to wandlessy transfigure crumbs into extra bits of whatever single meal-of-the-day she could scrounge together the first afternoon he'd caught on that she'd not eaten along with him. Her magic stretched itself to its limits, smothering her hunger and exhaustion as her body was denied the nutrients it craved.

But they'd officially run out of food today. And her already withered heart had broken when Severus had peeked around her to see the pantry empty, devoid of any cans.

The fridge went unnoticed as it was empty as well, nothing left but stale air, having been unplugged to avoid wasting energy last week. In fact, everything had been disconnected to save money on utility bills. At night the only source of light came through the grimy windows that Eileen had long since stopped bothering to clean.

At the damning sight, beautiful dark chocolate eyes had gone black as her boy neither frowned nor smiled.

 _"I'm only thirsty, Mother,"_ he'd whispered, biting into the edge of his pillow. Even with cloth to stuff his cheeks, little could be done to hide the fact that her child was prematurely losing the baby fat that would normally fill the gaunt frame. Clothes he'd fit snugly only months before now hung loosely even as they ran short on his growing height.

Resolution for an idea she'd long been hoping to avoid began settling in her mind.

With the softest sigh, she'd gently pulled the pillow out of her son's mouth, accompanying her action with a stern look and raised chin. Filling a glass with water from the tap, Eileen made certain Severus had a careful grip on it before lifting his slight frame to her hip.

 _"Your father won't be home for another hour or two,"_ She told him, as she made her way to the bookcase in their small little sitting room. _"What shall we read in the meanwhile?"_

Ignoring the few muggle children's books they had, Severus had opted for her copy of Hogwarts, a History, and she had sat and read to him, distracting them both from their hunger as she watched the light slowly return to color his eyes.

When exhaustion eventually called him to the land overseen by Hypnos, no doubt to further ignore his hunger pangs, Eileen had tucked him into bed with a brush to his feather-soft hair. She covered him in a wandless warming charm, strong enough to aid him to that empty land of dreamless sleep, though so weak it'd dissipate long before the night grew old. Replacing his pillow beneath his head, she'd closed the door to his room and made her way back down, sliding the book back into its place just as Tobias slammed the front door closed in his return. The fool man had come home reeking of cheap liquor and fish and chips from the local pub, no doubt fed by his drinking buddies and fellow brutish patriarchs.

He'd brought nothing home. Again. Despite the last row they'd had when she'd sliced into his pride like a hot knife to butter and gotten ringing ears and a bruised arm in return.

Her resolve cemented.

Mind made up so without further ado, Eileen went and grabbed her wand from beneath the kitchen sink, hidden atop the pipes. She gave her excuse to Tobias' gruff inquiry, and left out the front door in a brisk walk toward the unkempt river.

Her wand wasn't truly necessary for the transformation. But she'd prefer having it, along with her clothes, on her in the off chance some suspicious fool threw a homorphus charm her way.

She'd only done it once before, and would have to be careful not to attract undue attention this time around as she'd lied on the registration form. Though to be fair, it really wasn't her fault the Ministry was so incompetent as to not check in person. And as she was indeed registered, if she were to be found out all that would result of the mess would be a hefty fine, rather than time in Azkaban.

A fine that she could little afford however, so she would have to keep vigilant.

In quick succession, she placed both a notice-me-not and an obnixe charm on herself. The spells would wear off quickly, (the obnixe charm, instantly) as she hadn't the magical strength to sustain them beyond a transformation. But they would do for now.

Closing her eyes, Eileen breathed, and remembered.

Seconds later a long-furred, primarily black canine with the build of a greyhound stood where Eileen Snape, beleaguered mother and housewife, once stood. Had anyone been near enough to see (and magical and observant enough to look beyond the notice-me-not charm), they would have noticed the creature hunch in apparent agony, ribs and spine and hips prominently showing what type of pain, before straightening itself and silently trotting further upstream.

* * *

 **Tell me your thoughts, please! :3**

 _Obnixe_ is Latin for "with all one's strength." I think it's rather self-explanatory, but you're more than welcome to ask for clarification!


	2. Toviyah

**My early bird readers may have noticed a change to the title.** I was quick to edit it upon my discovery that "The Hound of Hogwarts" has already been claimed by another author and I don't much like the idea of a recycled title. As pointed out by the lovely HallowRain8587 (thank you!), titles aren't copyrighted. But it turns out that I do feel this title is more accurate to how the story will eventually play out.

 _And so here you meet "The goodness of God".._

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Tobias roused himself up to take a shower, having slept the worst of his hangover away.

The obnoxious sound of one of the kitchen chairs dragging across the tile had him stomping down however, verbal affront against Eileen's doubtless ire dying on his tongue as instead his boy came into view. Barefooted, Severus stood on his pillow on the aforementioned chair, having dragged it over to the sink as he tried reaching for the faucet handles, his glass cup with its faded dinosaur in hand.

"Toby," he stated, wincing at the volume of his own bark. "Boy, what do you think you're doing?"

Severus jerked around, the black head of hair he'd inherited from his mother stuck to his neck and forehead, slick from overnight sweat. "Jus' thirsty, Da," he answered, voice cracking to nothing in the wake of a dry throat.

Tobias huffed.

"Budge over," he said, unceremoniously lifting the chair back to the table, son and all. Severus' added weight was slight and unnoticeable as he clung to the rungs of the backrest.

Pulling the cup from his child's hand, he filled it nigh to the brim and watched as Severus gulped it all down. Filling it again he quenched his own thirst, the remnants of his headache receding.

"Where's ye mam gone now?" He asked, setting the glass back on the counter, uncaring to properly rinse and put it away.

His boy's fingers flexed into a corner of the pillow, a furrow appearing between Severus' dark brows. With his slight frame and pale complexion, Tobias realized he looked eerily like Eileen. She always seemed to have that furrow between her brows whenever they spoke nowadays.

Traded blatant insults.

Argued.

Severus had yet to speak. His own dark brown eyes looked back up at him in evident confusion. Tobias' own brows furrowed. "You seen her at all today, boy?" He growled.

He outright clutched his pillow in a white knuckled grasp now, furrowed brows daring Tobias to say something against his mother. Irritation and the barest hint of pride welled up in him at the show of his son's defiance. Outwardly, only his annoyance showed.

"Barely four and you're already standing up for that lousy bint of a women," he muttered. It was clear Severus hadn't seen Eileen all day by the worry hidden in his glare. Tobias thought back to the evening before, trying to remember through the drunken haze of his memory what Eileen had told him before she'd gone out.

 _"I'm heading out to buy...ease-"_ the broken record of his drunken memory could discern the quick snap of her smooth voice. But not what she'd said.

To buy...what? Buy bees? A lease? Tobias? Had she simply said his name?

 _"I'm heading out, Tobias."_ No...No that seemed wrong. Her lips had moved longer than such a short phrase would entail.

The click of wood on tile pulled back his attention to see Severus stepping back down to the ground. One small hand rubbed strands of lank hair out of his eyes, their unwashed state causing them to stick up awkwardly. The scent of oil and grime and salt wafted to his nose at the action, and Tobias knew Severus must have skipped at least yesterday's bath as well.

Reminded of his own state of uncleanliness, he realized his own brown locks were most likely in a similar state.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you washed in the shower."

Shivering and clean, his pale pallor turning just a tint into the spectrum of blues, Severus struggled into the faded old button-up his father tossed at him. Surprisingly it nearly fit him, only hanging loosely due to clearly having been made for a boy a size larger than him. A threadbare tie became a makeshift belt so as to keep his trousers on his hips.

"Ye granmum made that for me out of one of my Da's shirts when I was your age," explained Tobias as he ruffled his own wet head. Several drops of the spray found their way onto the aforementioned shirt. Severus looked up.

"Gran?" This was the first he'd heard of his muggle grandparents. Where were they?

"Was a fever," said Tobias. "Took your gran in her sleep. My bleeding heart old man followed her after an accident at the mill. Luckily the mortgage on this bloody hole was near full paid for by then."

Oh. Well that explained things. Although he didn't know what a more-gij was. Muggles were so frail, Severus supposed, if an accident could take away his grandad. And mother had told him that accidents were nothing more than stupid mistakes. Speaking of mother...

"Da? Do you know where's Mam gone?" Severus asked. His father might not like his mum. But he had to care a little, right? He'd wanted to know where she was, earlier. And since Severus himself didn't know, maybe Tobias would have a clue.

The sudden growl his father emitted said otherwise. And Severus flinched when Tobias abruptly turned out the bedroom door and stormed down the hallway steps.

Slowly, Severus followed at a much softer pace. The soles of his feet a whisper against the floorboards in comparison to his father's thunderous steps.

He found his Da back in the kitchen, a snarl on his lips as he stared at the opened cupboard beneath the sink. Severus was confused. Had Tobias been expecting to find his mother under the sink? That was silly.

Severus himself barely fit under there anymore.

"Da?" He dared to whisper.

"She took her wand," his father muttered. So softly that Severus wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. Tobias hadn't said wand, right? Mother had told him about the Statue of Secrets, how muggles like his father were not allowed to know about magic.

A rather horrid statue in Severus' opinion. Why did they have to listen to it? He was sure if his mother was allowed to use her magic, they'd have more food and things.

Severus himself has only seen Eileen's wand once, when his mother had pulled it out to tell him that he was a wizard. And that he must never ever show magic in front of his father or any other muggle.

"We're out of money," Tobias spoke. His fists clenched, knuckles going white as Severus took a careful step backwards. Louder, he said, "What groceries is that lousy bint talking about when we have no money?" He snapped his head toward Severus, dark eyes pinning his boy like a cornered tom.

Severus stared back silently, unsure of what to say. The beating of his heart filled and roared in his ears.

Seconds passed as father and child stared at each other.

Minutes seemed to stretch as Severus felt his hands grow cold.

Then Tobias grinned ferociously, showing off the jagged incisors and overlarge canines that Severus would soon be cursed to inherit. He knelt, bringing himself down to his son's eye-level.

"It's just you and me now, Severus. Yer mam's gone and left us, back to her freak world."

The dark arches of his boy's brows narrowed to a peak. Hatred, worry, and fear battled for dominance in Severus' pale visage as he glared as only a boy who loved his mum could glare.

Tobias understood. Up to this point his boy's world had been him and Eileen against Tobias, against the world.

"I don't see how she could leave you either, boy. But yer mam's more stubborn than I when she sets her mind, and come two days you'll see what I mean."

Confusion joined the mix as Severus wondered why his father's feral grin looked so sad all of a sudden.

Tobias stood abruptly, not giving his son time to further stare into the eyes he'd inherited. Acid crawled up his throat as his stomach let itself be heard.

"Get on your shoes, boy." Was this an ultimatum? "We're going to the pub." Had Eileen left, to have him decide between his son or his selfish whims of bottle?

Severus hesitated. "But Mam said-"

"I DON'T CARE what yer mother said!" He raged. After a breath, he continued on a more even tone, "I'll not let anyone touch you, you hear? You need food in you boy, and I've not got the funds for it right now."

Severus stared at him a while longer, before running up the steps to no doubt grab his shoes out from beneath his bed.

If this had been her ultimatum, then Eileen had left with the last say. But by God Tobias refused to let her find him years from now, only to discover he'd gone and let their child rot away.

* * *

 **Tell me your thoughts, please! :)**

 _Any theories on what I left unsaid here?_


	3. The Answer to Everything

Edited as of 3.28.17 

**Disclaimer:** I am not the author of the _Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy_ , nor _Harry Potter_.

 **Trigger warning:** _There will be a very mild mention of gore_.

Let's return to mum, shall we?

* * *

There was little thought going through Eileen's mind in the waking hours of her transformation.

After all, the reason she'd never embraced her ability as an animagus had been due to the fact that she'd not been very good at it.

She's never been very good at transfiguration. Certainly not nearly as good as Minerva McGonagall, the Gryffindor witch who'd been head girl during Eileen's first year at Hogwarts. Minerva, who had been so gifted in the art of transfiguration that Albus Dumbledore the great deputy headmaster himself, had offered her an apprenticeship.

Fascinated though as she'd always been with the subject, Eileen had never been able to grasp the finality of a true transfiguration. Potions and charms had been more her style. But even in those subjects she had never made marks beyond that of the average Ravenclaw. Of course, that meant all her grades had been e _xceeds expectations_ , but there was nothing _outstanding_.

No, her greatest achievement lay in taking the Hogwarts gobstones team to the internationals. They'd come in second in the finals, bested only by the team from Uagadou.

Not that anyone cared for gobstones in the first place.

She was an utterly average witch. A disappointment to her Lord Father, who had hoped for her placement in Slytherin so as to build association amongst the other future heads of nobility. Especially when all his hopes in the rejuvenation of the Ancient and Noble House of Prince had been placed on her upon her birth after her elder sister disowned herself from the family line.

But she had been sorted into Ravenclaw. She'd taken after her sister in that regard, valuing knowledge above power. Eileen hated the political weight her father expected from her, and as the years passed she'd absolutely hated the feel of the building political atmosphere.

She played with gobstones and knew without a doubt that the reeking, tangible slime was so much more preferable to the phantom sense of it she'd gotten when Rubeus Hagrid had been expelled from the school.

Gentle Hagrid, who had always been kind to Eileen and had given her rock cakes in thanks for help in charms homework. So desperate had he been to do well in the subject, he'd turned to a little Ravenclaw firstie two years his junior.

They had been alike in that regard, kindred spirits who couldn't seem to grasp the magical subjects their hearts desired. He, the half-giant boy who adored charms even if his calling had obviously been in Care of Magical Creatures. She, the forgotten royal with a fascination in twisting objects into things they were not, and whose spells never held.

Secretly, she delved into the very deepest trenches of transfiguration. So few animagus existed as it were. And if Eileen could just succeed in that, then she would surely regain the recognition that the line of Prince had long since lost to the emerging lines of Malfoy, Potter, and Zambini. Enough, at least, so that her Lord Father would finally give her some space.

In the end, she did succeed. But there were many possible consequences of animagus self-study, one of which she had run into.

Eileen lost her mind when she transformed.

It wasn't permanent, no. Obviously not. But she lost sense of herself, who she was, for hours on end. When she finally came to in that first success, it was to find herself mid-process of shredding half her wardrobe. Her Lord Father had been nursing some firewhisky as he lounged on a settee in their library when she'd finally emerged from her room. With nary a glance up, he'd flicked a house elf to her, and she found herself presented with animagus registration forms.

 _"Lie, for all I care, but you are to fill those scrolls out and then never to attempt such foolishness again,"_ he'd said.

And now, Eileen found herself shredding into something much more substantial than her robes. No, indeed not. For this time, clutched between her paws were the remains of supple flesh, soft fuzz, and the overwhelming tang of sweet iron. The dead, gimlet eye stared at her from the odd angle granted by a broken neck and gaping jaw.

She froze however, at the sight of the torn and blood-soaked ribbon peeking out from the shreds of torn tissue and white bone.

Eileen cursed, and out came a growl.

She'd downed a pet! What a Merlin-be-damned fool her unconscious mind was!

A glance toward the sky drew another growl from her sated throat. It seemed to be late morning. How long had she been out? Clearly it was at least the next day, if not two days past since she'd left Spinner's End.

She worried about Severus.

Did Tobias remember to feed his boy in her absence? Eileen would be sure to put her now lethal maw to good use if he hadn't.

She noted the absence of hunger pangs she'd grown used to the past few months. The weight of her belly was a near foreign, delicious feeling. How many rodents and small creatures she hunted down before her stomach gave back control of her mind Eileen would never know.

Above her, a raven cawed. The scavenger eyed her, then her half-devoured catch, flapping its wings impatiently.

 _Are you going to finish that?_

Eileen stood in shock. The thought had not been her own, and yet it had rung in her head with voiceless inquiry. The raven flapped again, croaking in annoyance.

 _Well?_

Gingerly, Eileen stepped away from the mangled catch. Taking the cue, the raven swooped gracefully down to land beside it. With one set of talons positioned to grip the corpse's skull, it deftly began to pluck out the dead rabbit's gimlet eye.

Eileen looked away from the macabre scene, taking in her surroundings to try and pinpoint where exactly she'd wandered off to. The sight of the untamed brush alongside the canal told her she'd stayed by the river Irk, or returned to it.

Home, at least, would be easy to find in any case.

Leaving the raven to its spoils, Eileen left to do just that. Unbeknownst to her, the raven stared as she went.

It so turned out she'd wandered about a day's walk away from Spinner's End. On four paws the journey was all the quicker, even as she detoured once to catch a hare, and by evening she hid herself amongst the shadows across the street facing the one door labeled with a faded 42.

Relief filled her bones as Tobias appeared down the street two hours later, with Severus asleep on his shoulder.

Just as he was unlocking the door, he tensed.

Growing up in a place like Cokeworth, especially on this far shoddy end of it, Tobias knew the feeling of being watched. Boys grew up cruel in this side of town, learning to fend for their own.

He would know, being one of them.

Sensing his father's suspicion, Severus woke up, careful to look up without moving his head. Across the street, a shadow stepped into the light of the waning moon.

"Da," whispered Severus, "there's a dog." Awe coated his voice as Severus had never seen a dog beyond the pages of a book before. Tobias gripped his boy tighter, then turned to see.

Indeed there was a dog. A sighthound, to be specific. Under the light of the moon, he made out an entirely black coat with a distinctive crown-like cream patch upon its chest. White strands outlined its long black ears, running up to connect at the base of its forehead to melt into a white face and cream colored muzzle. If not for the long hair of its ears and forelegs and length of tail he could see swaying in the wind, he'd assume it to be a greyhound. Perhaps it was, but it wasn't one he'd seen before.

Brightened by the moonlight, silver eyes set within black patches stared ceaselessly.

"What's a fancy prize like you doing in this part of town, eh?" Tobias muttered. He relaxed his hold on Severus. This late into autumn he worried about the threat of a desperate stray, but the calm surety with which the hound held itself showed the animal seemed to be of no danger at the moment.

It trotted closer, enough so that Tobias noticed the blatant lack of dangly bits, or any bits for that matter. He also noticed its bony appearance.

If Severus flinched, Tobias paid him no heed as he cursed at the animal. "Get off with you, mangy bitch! We don't need another mouth to feed in this house, fancy thing that you are."

The hound took another step closer, staring at his boy.

"Go away, dog," Tobias growled, his thunderous voice reverberating through Severus' thin frame. Silence stretched before it looked back at him and retreated away.

Severus stared as his mother turned and left, melting back into the shadows. It'd been over two days since her smooth voice rang sharp in his head. Just as he'd begun to accept his father's words, she'd come back to prove him wrong.

 _Never forget, Severus, you are a Prince._

 _Yes mother_ , he promised, just as Tobias slammed the front door.

* * *

 ** _Please, do leave a review. Lest I may fail to update._**

For those who didn't notice, the title of this chapter is a shorthand reference to the aforementioned 1981 television series stated in the disclaimer _._

 _This chapter has been updated with much thanks to_ dmeb _for pointing out a flaw I'd been ignorant of (kisses for you)!_


	4. Little Red

**Time skip:** A little under 5 years. Severus and Lily are both 8 years old here.

 _Yes indeed, here we meet the little red, green-eyed flower._

* * *

Careful to avoid the brambles, as Mummy was getting quite annoyed with always having to mend the tears in her clothes she would bring home after her adventures, Lily peeked through the brush at the boy with the nicely-cut hair in his too-big coat. He sat alongside the river, bent over a book as he idly read aloud to himself, though Lily couldn't hear anything above a murmur.

Lounging beside him was that dog again!

Lily cursed a not-good word in her head that she overheard Patrick Jenson from class say often enough. If Petunia knew, she would definitely go run to tattle to Mummy.

Lily wanted to talk to that boy. He did things, things that Lily knew weren't possible. Things like making leaves spin like circus acrobats, and jumping down from trees in slow motion.

Things Lily could do too. Lily could make flowers dance and she knew how to swing so high that she floated like a bird.

But the last time she'd done that, last week, Petunia had yelled at her and run to tell Daddy because Mummy had said that she wasn't allowed to do that kind of stuff. Lily had scraped her hands and skinned her knees falling to the ground in an effort to race home and stop her.

She'd been trying to find the boy alone for weeks now. But every time she caught sight of him, he was with that tall black dog.

Lily had never liked big dogs, not after the morning when she caught a glimpse of a dog stealing Petunia's new pet rabbit she had gotten for her birthday. Being so small, she'd seen it happen from the safety of the back door when she'd followed her big sister to go let the bunny out to eat morning dew.

Petunia herself didn't even remember what happened when she had been five. To this day she blamed it all on Lily herself.

But Lily, at the tender age of three going on four, Lily remembered.

She couldn't remember everything, not really. But she remembered how fast the dog had been appearing as if from nowhere, and how its tall, shadowy appearance had towered in comparison to little Lily.

The blue of Petunia's lost ribbon flashed through her mind.

Mummy had always wanted a dog. Daddy wanted a big dog, for guarding. But Lily always shied away from the dogs her parents would take her and Petunia to see at the shelter. And when it came to dog shows, Daddy would take Petunia, leaving Lily at home with Mummy because dog shows always had some larger dogs.

Lily really just wanted a cat. But Petunia and Mummy were allergic.

A bird crowed loudly nearby, causing Lily to look away from the boy in surprise. There! Up in the branches of the tree she was closest to, a raven eyed her. It tilted its head, crowing once more before shaking its wings and flying away.

Softly, a voice said, "What do you think you're doing?"

Lily screamed, and fell on her bum. Caught unawares, she looked up to see the boy had found her.

Frowning, he stared at her hair. "You're one of the Evans girls, aren't you?"

Lily was frozen, shocked he knew of her and shocked to see him so up close. He had a scary nose that looked funny on his face and his black eyes froze her.

"Well?" He asked.

"Whe- where's your dog?" Lily stuttered. Looking around, she saw no signs of the tall black animal. She also failed to notice the boy's expression tighten in anger.

"I sent her away," he replied. Her eyes widened, then closed.

Pressing a hand to her chest, Lily breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she could talk to him! Beaming, her excited grin making her own cheeks ache but not caring in the least, she smiled at the boy.

He, on the other hand, looked utterly confused and a little bit shocked.

"I hope you don't mind," she began, "I don't much like dogs."

He frowned again. "She wouldn't hurt you."

Lily looked away, picking at some grass beneath her fingers. Then she pushed herself to her feet, brushing the dirt off of the dress she'd nicked from Petunia's closet that morning. Smiling again, she looked toward the boy and stuck out her hand.

"I'm Lily Evans," she said. "Hello!"

The boy just continued frowning as he looked from her hand, back to her. Lily hesitated, then huffed. Grabbing his opposite hand and not noticing his near visceral flinch, she firmly shook it once.

"That's how you do a handshake!" She let his hand go. "What's your name?"

The boy stared at his hand before roughly flicking his wrist so that the folded sleeve of his too-big coat unfurled and fell to past his fingers.

"Severus Snape," he muttered, glancing up at her from beneath long lashes and a lock of black hair just long enough to cover his left eye. Severus was shorter than her, Lily noticed. Her chest puffed out at that little tidbit, as Petunia always made a point of looking down at Lily from under her sharp nose.

"Se-vu-ros," Lily mimicked. She didn't much like the way that sounded coming out of her mouth. It twisted her tongue, and Lily couldn't decide if it felt worse than the way Petunia's name made her feel like she was spitting. "Can I call you Sev?"

Severus glared at her, and Lily flinched at the shine of those black eyes staring at her. "No!" He barked, soft voice going as sharp as her Daddy's tailored suits. "What I want to know is why you've been following me these last few weeks!"

Lily was shocked. He'd noticed her? Severus continued.

"I would have caught you sooner in the act, but I was worried you were just after mu- my dog."

"How rude!" Lily sputtered. "Why would I want to take your dog-"

"Your da tried to!"

Silence reigned for a few seconds as Lily froze, trying to comprehend what the Snape boy had just told her. Severus, on the other hand, caught a glimpse of the large raven that liked to follow his mum in his peripheral.

Severus had named it Edgar.

And Edgar was silently clacking his beak at him.

Anger turned to confusion, and confusion turned to embarrassment as Severus remembered that the Evans girl had said she didn't like dogs. So mum was safe from her, it seemed.

"You're bluffing," said Lily. Severus looked back and withheld a flinch from those vivid green eyes. "You don't even know my daddy."

"I seen him twice," said Severus, voice soft once again. "He's got eyes like yours." He tilted his head, contemplating Lily's hair. "But he's blond."

"Oh." Lily blinked, frowning as she fidgeted with the burnt red of her hair. "I get it from my nana," she explained, "on my mummy's side."

Severus stared some more, the silence of his gaze rendering Lily mute and unsure of herself. Then his expression became excited and a corner of his mouth tilted up, just a little, the tip of a canine catching Lily's attention.

"You're a witch, aren't you? That's why you've been following me!"

Lily gasped, and stomped her foot. "How mean! That's not a very nice thing to call me!" Severus looked at her askance, as if there was something on her face he couldn't understand.

"I'm not being mean. That's what you are." He jabbed a finger in her direction. "It only makes sense, muggles aren't supposed to be able to follow me."

"Muggles?"

"People without magic."

Feeling wrong-footed, even as her breath hitched in excitement at his uttering of the word ' _magic',_ Lily asked, "Well then if I'm a witch, what are you?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He lifted an eyebrow at her, soft voice speaking slowly. "I'm a wizard."

Daintily, Lily covered her mouth as she gasped out, holding in a squeal of excitement. "So it's not weird?" She looked to the side, plucking a small flower from the bush closest to her. Holding out her hand, she showed off the gently opening and closing petals like an offering. "That I.. we can do these things?"

Severus grinned, his eyes shining as he answered, "No.. it's not," and jerkily motioned her to follow him even as he returned to his prior spot by the river to sit with an odd sort of grace. "Come here, look," and from seemingly out of nowhere the book he'd been reading before reappeared in his hands.

"How did you do that?" Lily asked as she eagerly seated herself beside him, her little flower floating away on the spring breeze.

"Do what?"

"Your book!" She pointed. "I didn't even notice where you pulled it out from!"

"That's because I didn't want you to notice it." Severus opened the worn, gilded brown cover, flipping forward a couple pages. "This is _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , written by a wizard who's very old now. These are real magical creatures that only we can see."

"The pictures move!" Lily stared in awe. From the pages a bird like an eagle with six wings reared its head and flew between the paragraphs. _Thunderbird_ , said the title. _Arizona, United States._

"All wizarding pictures move," explained Severus.

Lily stared some more, then gasped and clasped her hands, looking up to pin him with her emerald gaze. "Vampires! And mermaids and werewolves and unicorns! They're all real?"

For what seemed an eternity, Severus found himself mesmerized by her eager expression, wondering if the green of her gaze was a fitting match for the description of the _avada_ curse.

"They are... but werewolves and vampires are dark creatures and very dangerous."

* * *

 _Notes: Patrick Jenson is an OC boy you will never hear of again. 2017, I visited the Grand Canyon and Sedona for the first time ever! So the thunderbird reference is my nod to the wonderful views I experienced._

 **Be sure to leave me a review!** _Tell me what you think!  
_

 _Confirmation: Oh yes, I'm sure you have questions._


	5. The Welshman

**Disclaimer:** My British accent is a lie.

 **Flashback:** The Introduction of Harold Evans. 2 years previously.

* * *

The man came on what Severus considered a peaceful evening.

His belly was full with the wild hare that mum had brought home and Da had cooked along with mushy peas on toast and a side of lukewarm milk. The milk was a rare treat that Da said the barman from the pub had given to him especially for Severus.

A _celebratory kipper_ his father called it, for Da had been promoted to an official barber at the hair salon he'd been working in the past two months in the lower part of Greater Manchester, a three hour walk from home. As a consequence, Severus had found himself enrolled into the nicer primary school nearby.

Mum was glad for it though, said being around better off children would keep Severus' polite vernacular from standing out too much. She didn't really have to worry though, Severus could mimic nigh any accent.

Evidently, Severus' hair reminded Tobias too much of Eileen, so he'd begun chopping it shorter. _"I ain't letting you look like some bleeding flower boy."_ Though at first Tobias had wanted Severus to get his hair cut by one of the men from the pub that gave haircuts to whoever he lost a bet to, but Severus had adamantly refused. (That man reeked worse than even Tobias had on his worst days after being aled up. There was no way he was letting him near his head with anything sharp, thank you very much.)

Rebelliously, (almost magically, though Tobias refused to entertain the thought,) Severus' hair always grew back within a fortnight and an irritated Tobias had soon grown into the habit of experimenting hairstyles on his boy.

Then a stranger had praised Severus' look, asking where he'd gotten his hair cut. Tobias had gruffly replied he'd done the work, and the stranger had proceeded to wax poetic on how he should look into making a few quid off of the hobby.

Their situation had changed much in the past two years.

Other than in the winter, Severus no longer went to bed hungry since mum came back home. Though Da didn't seem to realize that the dog who liked to bring home game the way cats brought in dead vermin was her. To Severus, she was his mum, but to Tobias, the tall and lanky black dog was given the moniker of "Leena." Money was still scarce. Tobias was saving up for a car so that they'd not have to wake up in the bleeding hours of early morning just to walk down to the city in time for Severus to be dropped off at school and Tobias to clock into the shop on time.

Tobias rarely went into his rages nowadays, rages which only happened whenever he slipped back into drink and remembered all about how Eileen had left him to be a single father in bloody Cokeworth. But in those instances Severus had quickly learned to escape up to his room or out the front door, with mum following close behind.

The knocking on the door was quick and sharp. Mum had instantly perked up from her lax position as Severus' makeshift head cushion while he dozed off from a full belly.

Tobias' gruff, "Up, Toby. Stay where you are," roused his boy to alertness as he set aside the paper (folded open to the sports section) he'd been reading. Sharp dark eyes narrowed on the front door, suspicion wondering who would dare come knocking at such a late hour in moldy Spinner's End.

Another round of knocking, followed by a muffled inquiry, spurred him to rise from the old club chair.

Through the spyhole Tobias glimpsed a blond in a fancy tailored suit, nervously shifting from foot to foot as he looked from the door, to the darkening neighborhood behind him, and back again. At the least, he didn't look like some drunk arse that he would need to beat away.

Not that he didn't want to anyway.

As the blighter started another round of knocking, Tobias yanked the door open, letting it bang into the side of the house as he shoved his one hundred eighty centimeter height into the man's personal space.

The man back-pedaled, tottering off the front step and into the street just beyond. Tobias noticed the car parked just a way's off.

"The bloody hell you want at this hour?" The man's eyes widened in shock, no doubt more from hearing the bass of Tobias' voice than what was actually said.

Straightening, the blond cleared his throat. "Ah, forgive me for the intrusion on your time this evening, sir," he began, voice mellow and utterly average. If his clothes weren't already screaming it, his obvious lack of Mancunian accent and polite verbiage were a blatant sign of him being from some place much nicer than dreary Cokeworth.

With the overhead light from inside to light his face, Tobias found himself easily irritated at the sight of the man's vivid green eyes.

"I hope I haven't both-"

"Yer bothering me plenty right now," Tobias cut off. The blond stuttered, a tick in his pleasant grin marring the man's otherwise perfect salesman appearance. "What's your name?"

"Uh, Harold. Harold Evans. But you can call me Harry. And yours?" Harold rose a hand to shake and Tobias blatantly ignored it, staring silently until the appendage retreated to hang back awkwardly at its owner's side.

"Snape," He granted. Another tick appeared above Harold's left brow and Tobias felt himself hold back a grin at cracking the blond's perfect facade.

"Pleasure to-"

"Get on with it, ya bloody pillock!" Tobias cut in. Instantly, Harold dropped all pretenses at pleasantry and glared at Tobias' black-eyed sneer. His pleasant tone turned flat and curt.

"I understand you have a dog." Reaching into his suit, Harold pulled out and flipped open a leather wallet. "A sighthound, to be specific." He counted out ten banknotes. "A Persian greyhound, to be even more specific." He proffered the money, and Tobias caught view of the Queen's image and repeats of the number twenty with narrowed eyes.

"You're wasting time coming all the way here," he said. Stepping back, Tobias moved to close the door.

"I beg your- sir! I'm offering to buy your dog!" With his arm against the closing wood, Harold had taken a step into the dreary abode in an effort to keep the conversation going. Light seemed to flash in Snape's black eyes at his daring intrusion, and Harold flinched off of the old door. Movement from his peripheral brought his attention to the threadbare sitting room just beyond, the sight of a small boy and the aforementioned canine catching his eye.

Noticing the motion, Tobias turned to Severus and nodded toward the stairs. "Get yourself out of my sight, boy," he commanded.

"No! Wait, please," said Harold. His palm reached forward as Severus paused at the foot of the stairs, curiosity causing him to warily stare between the man with green eyes and his father. "Hey there son. I've got two girls of my own around your age back home." Severus blinked, unsure about what the Evans man expected him to do with such pointless information. "That's a valuable creature you have there, but it's rather high maintenance. Surely you would have a much easier time if I were to take it off your hands in exchange for all this money you could sooner use to feed yourself?"

Unconsciously grabbing a hold of his mother's scruff, Severus flinched at the horrid grin Tobias cracked at the man.

"High maintenance? I don't even have to feed the bitch and she brings food to the table better than any lousy bint. Your money is nothing more than pity change here." Harold glared back warily. "You're not the first to have offered for her, but that dog does things her own way, and this fool's errand of yours will only result in annoyance for me when you come back to complain that I've gone and trained her to return."

"Did you? If you trained her well, she has the potential to win countless dog shows and competitions. Although I do warn you that Persian greyhounds are no match for their Scottish counterparts."

Tobias scoffed, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming the longer the fancy blond ran his mouth. "No. This bitch ain't nothing more than a useful eyesore who hasn't got the sense to leave no matter how much I try. Try to take her for all I care, but she's more attached to my boy than his own mother was."

As if on cue, the hound in question bowed low, eyes glaring and teeth glinting as she snarled from beneath the boy's hand.

Understanding his loss, Harold apologized for his intrusion and made his exit.

The door slammed closed behind him, barely clipping his suit.

* * *

 **Notes:** In my head cannon Tobias is about 5'11". Mr Evans is approximately 5'7". Severus will eventually surpass them both at 6'2". Yes, this chapter is basically filler (But still cannon to the story!) as I try to figure out where the plot is going and how to continue it.

 _Please keep up the **reviews**! They're my  motivation!_


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